XXIII
WAYS and means were still a problem for Mame. The one hundred and fifty dollars, which had dropped like manna from the sky, were not going to carry her far. One cannot live on the air of London, England, solid though it may be compared with the champagne of New York. Even in that exhilarating climate one needs plenty of “dough” to carry on from day to day.
Miss Du Rance was by way of having quite a lot of success. Socially she had gone much further than she could have dared to hope in so short a time. Her foot was now planted well on the ladder, but she must take care lest she climb to an altitude a little too dizzy. It is so easy to lose one’s head.
Shrewd to the bone, a true daughter of the Middle West, she felt she had better call a halt and look around. It had been a rare bit of luck to strike these friends, but the margin of her resources was so narrow that unless she could add to it pretty soon, and also find other means of income, she would not be able to stay the course.
The situation was again growing serious. Those few providential dollars were already melting like snow. True, she now felt entitled to count on anotherdraft from Elmer P. at an early date, but precisely when it would come she didn’t know. Besides even when it arrived it was not going to last very long. No, it would be wrong to shirk the fact that the margin upon which she was working was uncomfortably small.
This fact came directly home to her, when, about three days after her walk with Bill along Piccadilly, she received a hurried line from Lady Violet, suggesting that on that day week they should make up a party for tea and dancing at the Orient Club, Knightsbridge. If Miss Du Rance cared for that sort of thing she might find it rather amusing.
As it happened few girls cared more for it than Mame. Even in her primitive Cowbarn epoch, an occasional dance with the best and brightest of the boys had been her favourite, indeed her only, means of recreation. Moreover, in New York a certain amount of time had been given to the cultivation of the art. She had always felt it to be within the range of her lightly tripping toes to tread a measure in the best company. Dancing harmonised with her vitality and her love of movement. Had she not seriously considered having herself trained for vaudeville?
Keen as she was to fall in with Lady Violet’s suggestion, she was also wise enough to scent the peril. One way or another it would mean further expenditure that she really could not afford. The position was rather maddening. Her future, as she saw it, as she had planned it, as she had fully determined that it should be, lay with these influential and attractive folks.Perhaps she was a little snob, but this sort of life quite spoiled one for any other.
Still, money was needed to live it. Money was needed all the time. Unless one knew how to get it regularly and in good sums one would surely be wise to turn aside from the lures of English society.
Instinctively Mame felt that she ought not to accept Lady Violet’s invitation. She would be getting into deeper water than she cared about. Delightful as the sun and the ripples were upon the waves, she was nothing like a strong enough swimmer at present to trust herself to that treacherous sea. Yet, alas, there was a second instinct, equally powerful, which recalled a favourite text in the office calendar: There is a Tide.
That fly-marked old calendar had a wonderful knack of turning out to be true. There was a Tide, not a doubt of it. And Mame Durrance was poised upon the top, but so precariously that if she didn’t watch out she would find herself in difficulties; for at present she had not learned to swim beyond a very few strokes. But she was there all right, on the crest of the wave. And somehow she felt the power rising within her to breast those waters. She would sure be the worst fool alive if now she went back on her chances.